


Eyes on Me

by boomturkey



Series: Eyes on Me verse [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Flirting Across the Net, M/M, Second Year Hinata Shouyou, Spring Nationals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:41:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26303611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boomturkey/pseuds/boomturkey
Summary: Hinata Shouyou gives Suna the willies. But that doesn't mean he doesn't like him.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Suna Rintarou
Series: Eyes on Me verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1928440
Comments: 94
Kudos: 768





	Eyes on Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [diphylleias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/diphylleias/gifts).



> For Bel. For being unnaturally gifted at incepting fic ideas into my head >:|

“You ready Suna?” Atsumu asks him, determined slant to his shoulders — trying to do the captainly thing. Being obnoxious. Just Atsumu things.

Suna gives a half hearted shrug, “I’m warmed up.” If that’s even what Atsumu is asking. Who the hell knows.

Atsumu squints at him, gaze sliding across the court to size up the opposite bench where Karasuno is doing some sort of lame ass pep talk. Game three of Spring Nationals, and Suna just knows that Atsumu is going to be insufferable until they finish this game. Maybe even beyond that. Win or lose, Suna hopes that it softens the chip that’s been hanging out on Atsumu’s shoulder for the better part of a year.

After their unexpected and deeply tragic loss last year at the hands of Karasuno and their mutant first years — now second years, Atsumu had kinda lost his marbles. Already suffering a tenuous hold on what other people would consider sanity, Atsumu flung himself free from the shackles of normal acceptable behaviour to fixate **hard** on all things Karasuno. To say Atsumu had taken their loss last year hard would be like saying there’s a bit of sand in the Sahara. Not incorrect, but certainly not communicating the gravity of the situation.

In the months following their loss Atsumu had somehow gotten his grubby paws on every single Karasuno match ever recorded — often leveraging his captaincy to bully his teammates into watching alongside him. Suna was pretty successful at ducking out of these “research meetings” — up until the Hyougo Inter-High tournament, where Atsumu’s recurring mantra of “never again” became Inarizaki’s cold and creepy companion.

The funniest moment of Suna’s high school career will forever be the screech Atsumu made as they rolled up to the bracket board last summer during the Inter-High Nationals. “What the FUCK is a Date Tech!?”

Something about Atsumu spending hundreds of hours plotting how to beat Karasuno only for them to lose to another team in their home prefecture made Suna laugh so hard he nearly pissed himself.

And now here they stand, six months later, facing off against Atsumu’s _nemesis’_ while the rest of them come along for the ride.

Atsumu is still glaring over at the Karasuno bench — the dweeb probably thinks he looks menacing or something. Clicking his tongue, Atsumu’s gaze narrows onto Suna, and ooooh~ he’s looking serious. “Are you ready to face off against Karasuno’s number ten?”

Suna tips his head to look over at the tall, black haired, rangy looking first year, probably a back up middle blocker, wearing the number ten. He slides an amused look at Atsumu. “Dunno, the kid looks pretty green. Don’t think he’ll even make it out on the court.”

Atsumu’s head whips around to look over at Karasuno, just wrapping up their “fight!” chant to disperse onto the court. The scowl on Atsumu’s face was definitely worth the pouting Suna was gonna have to put up with later, “Ya know I meant number seven— Shouyou-kun, ya drip.”

Suna lifts his brows and makes a noise in the back of his throat, swaying to his feet as Inarizaki gathers for their own cheer. Ready to face Hinata Shouyou. Sure. Great.

As far as master plans go, Atsumu has definitely had stupider ones— but not by much. Suna and Osamu were on Hinata patrol for the match, doing everything in their power to slow down Karasuno’s best weapon. The copious amount of Karasuno game tape he’d watched for the better part of a year left Suna not exactly confident, but the task seemed doable at least. Osamu was almost as fast as the tiny bastard. Suna’s vertical was pretty much on par with him too. Just so long as he didn’t get tooled too often, Suna was pretty sure he could handle Hinata Shouyou.

And then the tournament started and Inarizaki got to watch Karasuno’s full game yesterday during round two. Hinata was definitely jumping higher. And he was definitely faster. And he was definitely somehow jumping higher faster.

Fuck.

If Atsumu’s grand revenge scheme hinged on Suna’s ability to contain **that** , then Inarizaki may as well throw in the towel now. Or hope the little monster tuckered himself out again, like last year. But it was not to be. Hinata Shouyou somehow looked even more spry and cheerful and terrifying than he had the last time Suna played him. _Awesome_.

Lined up and ready for Atsumu to hopefully go on a serve streak, Suna can feel eyes on him. Sliding a narrow eyed look across the net, he finds himself under the intense gleaming scrutiny of the most terrifying player on the court. See, most people would think that’s Atsumu, or Kageyama, or maybe even Atsumu & Osamu. Nah. Little gremlin boy standing across from him, big beaming smiles and sparkly eyes was the creepiest creature Suna had ever had the displeasure of meeting. There was something half-feral about Hinata that made Suna think that he’d be capable of tearing out a throat with his teeth, probably wearing that pleasant, good boy grin while he did it too.

Hinata gave Suna the willies.

But he’d decided on a strategy that morning for managing the small bastard. Tried and true trash talk — throw the munchkin off his game. Tipping his head, Suna blows a disinterested sigh out of his mouth, “You’re still a middle blocker I see.”

Hinata blinks, freaky eyes somehow getting bigger as he watches Suna with interest. “Mhmm!”

“Even though you have taller players?”

Hinata glanced over at the Karasuno bench, his eyes flicking back to Suna. Giving him a wide, friendly smile, “Yeah! Same could be said for you too.”

Suna jerked. Did— Did he just get burned? By Hinata? Was that a fluke? Intentional? Wha— Before he could open his mouth to respond, the whistle blew and Atsumu was throwing up a serve toss. He could work on his antagonizing game later — there was actual volleyball to play.

WHABAM — of fucking course Karasuno starts out with a ridiculous broad after digging Atsumu’s set. Why the hell not? Suna already knew this was going to be a long ass frustrating game.

Flicking a glance across the net the gremlin was watching him again, eyes glittering and— Did Hinata just wink at him?

“Better luck next time!” Hinata chirped with a blinding smile, hands tucking behind his head to protect him from Kageyama’s serve. Long ass game indeed.

The rest of the game was like that too. Hinata’s keen eyes watching him too closely — making the doofiest fucking sounds anytime Suna rotated midair to readjust his spike. In return, Hinata sailed over Suna’s head several times, tooling him and Osamu, out running every single person on the court. Looked to be having the time of his life — especially with the dweeby first year wing spiker who seemed to be half in love with the single most ridiculous middle blocker in the entire tournament.

Suna might quit volleyball for good if he has to hear one more shrill, “Way to go senpai!” evertime Hinata scored — which was most of the time, dammit.

Inarizaki took the first set and dropped the second — all because Hinata decided to drop kick them all in the face with their pants down. He went up for a spike that Suna had been sure he and Osamu had closed off perfectly, only for Hinata to adjust midair in an eerily familiar way, rotating to spike around his block. The bastard seemed just as surprised as Suna was that he did it too.

Fists pumping in front of him, hopping up and down, Hinata beamed at Suna — as if he had anything to do with it. “I finally did it!” And when the shrill first year asked what he meant, Hinata pointed across the net, all innocent like, looking at Suna. “I did his bendy spike thing.”

He had to put up with shit for another whole set?

At least by then, Suna finally figured out an angle to throw Hinata off. Somehow in the last year the little shit had developed some thicker skin, seemingly perfectly content to let insults and jibes roll off his back — zen bastard. He did however have one weakness.

“Don’t mind it Toshirou-kun! You’ll get it next time!”

“Nice kill Toshirou-kun!”

“Woooo! Toshirou-kun, you really saved my butt there!”

Hinata Shouyou was a good senpai who apparently lived for fluffing up the ego of his little baby crowlings. Suna might not be able to keep up with Hinata, but he could certainly distract him.

As the baby wing spiker rotated forward, Suna turned to call over his shoulder, “Holes in their defense now boys, let’s ramp up those attacks.” Or after successfully blocking the kid, Suna gave him a confused head tilt, “You know you’re supposed to spike the ball around me, right?” And his favorite: “Nice. I love a bansai block.”

Watching the kid wilt wasn’t nearly as gratifying as watching Hinata get twitchier and twitchier as the third set wore on. The creepy scrutiny turned into resentful glares and Suna basked in it. There it was. An overswing here, a net foul there, and the even stevens score was starting to allow Inarizaki to pull away. It was after a net joust that had Suna knocking the first year to the ground that Hinata finally snapped.

“Oop.” Suna delivered flatly, pursing his lips. “Maybe you need a break kid? You’re looking a little low on stamina.” Perhaps that was a bridge too far, the kid looked absolutely wounded. Suna almost started feeling bad when the hand that reached out to pick Toshirou-kun up spasmed into a fist.

“That’s enough.”

It was the stillness that was the most startling thing — Hinata always seemed to be fluttering and wiggling around, now abruptly ceasing all motion. And the quiet. Somehow despite the noise of their own game, and three other games playing out around them, Hinata’s voice still rang out enough to reach Suna’s ears. That and the sharp predator eyes, staring at him unblinking. For some reason all the glittering scrutiny earlier had put Suna off just a little bit. But this, this was making his heart race in a fascinating way.

“So afraid you’re going to lose you need to pick on someone?” Suna wondered what that voice spoken into his ear would do to his heart rate. It would definitely give him goosebumps. Hinata tipped his head to the side, expression blank, “How about you pick on someone your own size?” And then the sharp predator eyes swept Suna up and down, appraising him and apparently finding him wanting. Suna’s mouth fell open, watching Hinata pick the kid up and turn away.

Sorry. Hinata Shouyou was implying that Suna should pick fights people his own size and that **he** , 160-nothing centimeter Hinata was—

“Did he just imply yer as short as him?” Osamu asked, leaning in from the side. Suna stared at him, baffled. Osamu tipped his head thoughtfully. “Ya have to have at least fifteen to eighteen centimeters on him.”

Suna made a strangled noise in the back of his throat.

“Unless it’s because yer both short for middle block—” Suna pressed a hand over Osamu’s face to get him to stop talking.

Suna had been shocked. Had been offended.

But he was finding maybe, just maybe, he was also a little bit in love.

The gall! The audacity! The bone chilling terror of being stared at like that. Suna wanted to crush him and then pin him up against the wall and kiss him. Probably.

Pick on someone his own size alright.

Holy shit.

Inarizaki won in the end. Atsumu got his revenge. The twins did their victory lap around the gymnasium, exchanging some spicy words with Hinata and Kageyama as they went. Suna kinda wished he were the type to do that sort of thing too. Another excuse to have Hinata’s eyes on him. Now that the game was over, he was feeling a bit bereft without Hinata’s glittering and focused stare on him at all times.

It was kind of a shame. Suna would have loved to watch Hinata play a bit more.

It’s not like Suna was seeking him out or anything — not purposefully anyways, even if wandering around the stadium between games was a bit aberrant for him. He was more of a find a spot to nap, or a dick around on his phone kind of guy. After a good solid hour of wandering the stadium, Suna finally spotted a head of orange hair and a black jacket — sitting by himself on some benches far down the concourse. Hinata was gnawing on his lip as he typed something out into his phone.

“Oi, Karasuno.”

Typing fingers froze as Hinata lifted his head, blinking owlishly up at Suna. Back to dumb and cute it seems. Hinata mouth flapped open and shut. Eyes squinting as his face scrunches up — it’s embarrassing how charming Suna finds that. “Yeah?”

“You’re still here.” Suna shoves his hands into his pockets, experiencing a sudden wash of regret. What was his game plan here exactly? Get his rocks off having this weird little creep stare at him?

Hinata cocks his head to the side like a puppy. “Yeah?”

In his pocket Suna rubs his thumbnail along the calluses on his pointer finger. Hinata always seemed a lot more chatty — though perhaps losing had dampened his spirits a bit. “You sticking around for the whole tournament?”

Hinata shifts, his face opening up in confusion. Yeah, Suna ain’t sure why he’s asking that either. “We booked the hotel for the whole tournament, so our coaches figured we ought to stay and watch some games.”

Gutsy. They didn’t even make it to the Inter-High last summer and yet still Karasuno had the audacity to presume they’d stick around till the finals. Scrappy little shits. “You coming to watch our next game?”

Gone was the defensive confusion from Hinata’s face, replaced by genuine curiosity. Leaning forward a bit, eyes alight with interest as Hinata chews on the inner corner of his lip. “Do you want me to watch your next game?”

Suna shrugs, looking away. Hinata’s stare was kinda intense in both good and bad ways. Suna still hadn’t figured out if he wanted Hinata to crack him open like a puzzle or not. “Figured you might want to cheer for someone to beat us.”

“Why?”

Now it’s Suna’s turn to blink in confusion. Hinata genuinely looked like he didn't understand. “Because we kicked your ass earlier?”

“So?” Big brown eyes stare at him like the answer isn’t already obvious.

What is it about Suna and developing crushes on dumbasses? What had Akagi called it last year? Moro-sexual? Christ. “For revenge. For knocking you guys out?”

That at least produced a scowl — finally a normal reaction. “Just because you guys beat us, doesn’t mean I want you to lose.” Hinata is frowning at him, like he’s the one being weird.

This had been a stupid exercise, driven by a weird, slightly intense moment in the heat of a game. Lucky for Suna, just as quickly as he’d been infected by the brain worms that was Hinata Shouyou, the feeling passed. Thank god. Imagine, going through life thinking this adorable, slightly creepy dipshit in front of him was worth his time. Heaving a sigh, Suna raises a hand in a lazy farewell. He scratched an itch and found it unsatisfying. More power to him.

“Welp—”

Something shifts in Hinata’s expression — something that looks a whole lot like that predatory gleam from on the court, only dangerous in a different way. Suna finds his stomach doing kickflips as Hinata pushes to a stand, tipping his head to the side as if to consider how best to eat Suna.

“If you want me to come watch you Suna-san, all you have to do is ask.”

New things Suna learned about himself today: 1) Apparently he’s attracted to dumbasses. 2) He really really really likes the way Hinata looks at him like he’s the last tasty piece of cake left on the plate. 3) Hinata Shouyou can apparently purr — and he **likes** it.

“Are you flirting with me?” Suna asks, just needing to be sure.

Hinata takes another step forward until he’s only an arms length away — really truly highlighting how full of shit he’d been earlier. They definitely were not the same size. Twerpy little bastard would be easy to pick up— that is a bad train of thought to have right now.

Hinata gives a languid shrug, still staring at Suna intently. “Do you want me to?”

He thinks on it for all of two seconds before he nods, “Yeah.” Why the hell not?

Hinata’s smile is slow and easy and all teeth, and Suna’s heart does a tiny little pitter patter — holy shit! “Good. Then I guess I’ll come watch you later.” And with that, Hinata brushes by him, hands tucked behind his back as he wanders away, apparently entirely unflustered and unbothered by their exchange.

Suna watches him go, his brain full of warm excited static like he’s some kind of embarrassing thirteen year old with a crush who just walked by — unable to form the words necessary to come up with a pithy response.

“Oh, Suna-san!” Suna looks down the hallways to where Hinata has stopped, giving him a shit eating smile — oh god, this is one of those embarrassing doki doki moments Suna has feared his entire life. “Make sure to impress me, I want to learn something new.” Suna was staring like a slack jawed moron, his face feeling hot and his heart racing. Hinata turns, tossing one last rejoinder over his shoulder as he walks away, “I’ll be watching you closely.”

God that sounded like a threat. Suna couldn’t fucking wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell with me about HQ! at my writing twitter: [@boomturkeyao3](https://twitter.com/boomturkeyao3)


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